


Out of Bounds

by suddenly_im_Mr_sex



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Blow Jobs, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Romantic Sherlock, Student John, Teacher Sherlock, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suddenly_im_Mr_sex/pseuds/suddenly_im_Mr_sex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this particular AU, John has to repeat grade twelve after an injury and is provided with 'extra support' from Mr Holmes, his new chemistry teacher. It doesn't take long for them to fall in love and fall into bed. Follows the main plot outline of Series 1 & 2 of BBC Sherlock with appearances from flirty new girl, Irene Adler and villainous professor Moriarty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Study in Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first real fic that I'm taking seriously. The teacher/student AU is a personal favourite of mine and I hope you enjoy. Please comment if it's good, or even if it's bad, I'd love some constructive criticism. But enjoy the plentiful smut.

Starting year twelve was tough on John Watson, and even tougher starting year twelve again. After near perfect grades in his first semester he was shot during an armed robbery, diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder less than a week later. The condition kept him housebound long after the wound had healed and it was decided, John would have to repeat the year. In the six months it took John to begin his rejuvenation, he isolated himself, shut himself away from his friends, his girlfriend and even his family when he could. He slept as much as he could manage, reading sometimes, watching TV, but a lot of the time he would just lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling, waiting, he didn’t even know what for.   
It seemed now that he was so far from his worst, that he was waiting for his second crack at grade twelve, even though he’d be burdened with not only the workload of the last year of school, but also the task of writing a journal to keep his therapist happy, she’s trying to stop him from saying that nothing ever happens to him… she thinks he’s blocking her, but he really is just bored and alone.   
Walking the corridors of St Bart’s College again felt refreshing but reminded him that even the students who were barely passing first level English were out in the real world, away from the confines of these ridiculously long halls. There were hundreds of students hurrying to classes and fiddling with lockers, he almost felt too comfortable back here again.   
“John! Oi, Watson!” A short, smiley boy jogged over to him, “I know you probably don’t remember me but I was in your soccer team last year.”  
“Right, yeah.” John smiled, “Mark?”  
“Mike.”   
“Right, yeah of course.”  
“I hope you’re okay after what happened last year, sucks you didn’t get to graduate with your friends.” John nodded and stared off into the distance as Mike kept talking, while the kid was a bit of a bother, it was good to be seen with friends.   
“What’ve you got first?”   
“Umm… chemistry, I think I’m late actually.”   
“Hate science, nah you’ll be right, Holmes couldn’t hate you already.” Mike laughed and jogged off, presumably late to his first class as well.   
Gathering his things, John couldn’t have been more than five minutes late but knocked on the wooden door to be polite, he pulled open the door,   
“Sorry I’m late Sir, I…” The man on the other side of that door could not have looked more angelic if he had fluffy wings and a fucking halo.   
“Of course, I understand, John isn’t it?” He simply nodded and sat at the seat Mr Holmes gestured to. John tried his best to concentrate on the formulas and solutions only to find it was like trying to read when you’re tired. The more attention John lavished upon the man, the less he looked like an angel though, his features were perfect, and his skin was almost alabaster. But his hair was curly and styled, his cheekbones sharp, framing his face, and his shirt was dark purple, clinging to his pale skin.  
At the end of the lesson, the other students filed out of the room, John spending far too long glancing at Mr Holmes to notice the bell ringing.   
“I can’t believe I’m finally meeting my top student.” Mr Holmes chuckled, his baritone like a jaguar trapped in a cello.   
“It’s good to be back actually.” John smiled and tried hard to avoid the blush spreading up his neck.  
“Oh and I’m supposed to pass on the message that you need to see the Headmaster sometime this afternoon if you can spare a few minutes.”   
“Am I in trouble already?” John smiled and Mr Holmes raised an eyebrow,  
“I presume not, here, this is the semester overview, they were handed out before you decided to grace me with your presence.”  
“Thank you Sir, I won’t be…”  
“I understand.” John turned on his heel and quickly walked out of the classroom, his heart beating out of his chest, he was terrified, overwhelmed and aroused all at the same time. Chemistry was going to be interesting.   
The rest of the day, John spent being introduced to giggling girls and the new seniors of the football team, looking considerably smaller than their egos. In the particularly boring English lesson, with a teacher John had long been aquainted with, he decided it was time to bite the bullet and make himself known to the Headmaster.  
“Miss Bishop, I have to see the Headmaster.”   
“Of course Dear.” He smiled and nodded at her as he walked out of the room, one of his strengths was always knowing how to get teachers to like him, much easier than with other students. Still, he couldn’t imagine making friends with Mr Holmes would be that easy.   
There was an utterly stupid amount of stairs leading to the Headmaster’s office, John could feel the dull ache in his leg from about halfway up, and was panting by the time he made it to the receptionist. He limped to the front desk,   
“I’m John Watson, I was told to meet with the Headmaster today.” The woman looked up from her horn rimmed glasses and nodded for him to take a seat. He couldn’t believe how calm he was considering his reaction to his new chemistry teacher, although Headmaster Holmes didn’t quite carry his younger brother’s appeal.   
The man was well spoken and friendly, John was surprised he hadn’t seen the Headmaster around the school grounds more often, he supposed if you only had to communicate with students occasionally you could keep up a friendly façade.   
The ‘chat’ had been mainly inquisitive as to how John was recovering, he must have concerned him with the limp,   
“I’m coming along well Sir, feeling much better.”  
“That is wonderful news Watson. Before you go, as you may have noticed Mr Holmes is my brother and I have told him to offer private tutoring to you if you’re having any troubles. Did he mention?”  
“Ah… no Sir. I will ask for help if I need it though Sir, thank you.” John left as quickly as possible after that, he was supposed to offer extra tutoring. Well, maybe he forgot to mention it… this was bound to be an interesting if embarrassing year.

Dear Diary,  
I suppose this is how I’m supposed to write, like a pre-pubescent girl. Although, that’s a bit how I feel today. It was the first day of school and I met my new chemistry teacher Mr Holmes… he’s the headmaster’s brother and fuck he’s gorgeous. I’m straight… I swear, it’s just he’s like… perfect. Anyway, it doesn’t matter cos he clearly wants nothing to do with me… he was supposed to offer me extra tuition and didn’t, I told the headmaster I’d bring it up myself but I think we both know that’s not gonna happen. For Carol’s benefit: I ate all my food, made some decent friends and I’m gonna sign up for football when they call for names next week.  
\- John Watson

For the first time in months, John was tired. He ditched his school uniform and slept in his boxers, he must have been half asleep when his mobile rang.   
“Hello?”   
“Is this John Watson?”  
“Yeah, who’s this?”  
“I’m Detective Inspector Lestrade, I was in charge of your case a few months ago… there’s been a development.”  
“Oh, what kind of devel…”  
“There’s been another one, but he was shot in the chest, the doctors don’t think he’s gonna make it.”  
“So what do you want from me?”  
“Just stay safe alright, just until they’re caught.”  
“Of course. Thank you Detective Inspector.”  
“Thanks John.” The call ended and John tried to distract himself from thinking about that night, he hadn’t decided whether it was okay that his mind would only think about the mugging and Mr Holmes. He felt that he’d rather dream of Holmes and being shot again, he could use a change.   
He checked his phone, a little after 3am when he heard a creak on the timber floor. His door slowly swung open and there stood Mr Holmes.   
“Oh god, you scared the shit out of me, what are you?” Holmes was still walking towards him and crawled onto the bed, closer to John,  
“May I?” He nodded and lifted the covers, Holmes crawling under the covers and disappearing below them, his pale fingers tugging at the waistband of John’s boxers.   
“Mr Holmes, what are you?”   
“Shh…” John couldn’t have spoken again if he tried as Holmes plunged his hand inside his boxers, squeezing and pulling at John’s hardening cock. John moaned as he gave him a particularly skilful twist. His hips were rutting against Holmes already, searching for more friction.   
John watched as Mr Holmes licked his lips sensually, “Let me suck you John.” John’s breathing was fast now, Holmes teasing his cock with feather light touches.   
“Please Sir!” With that, Holmes lowered his head and engulfed John into his sinfully hot mouth. John was fisting at the sheets, he didn’t want to disappoint Holmes with his teenage lack of stamina.   
He finally worked up the courage to peak under the sheets at the sight of Sherlock’s lips around the head, his cheeks hollowed, John pulled the sheets back and gripped his teacher’s shoulder hard. He watched as Holmes’ jaw relaxed and brought an arm around John’s lower back inviting him to go deeper. He held back at first, but Holmes brings John’s hips up and smiles around John’s cock.   
John uses that as an invitation and sinks his cock into his teacher’s throat. He risks another look at Holmes’ face, his dark eyes gazing into John’s own, his cheeks flushed and his nosed pressed into John’s pubic hair. After a second or so, Holmes pulls back to breathe, keeping the head in his mouth as he breathes around it, the warm air making John’s cock twitch, he doesn’t take it as deep this time but applies a perfect amount of suction and John is moaning,   
“Sir, I’m gonna…” Mr Holmes looks up again and blinks in recognition, only sucking harder until John is shaking and coming,  
“Oh fuck!” John moans as he wakes up, his body still quivering from the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Fuck!” he groaned again as he realised what had happened and awkwardly slid around to sit on the edge of his bed, he grimaced as he glanced down at the sticky wet patch on his boxers. School was going to be torturous.


	2. Tragedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John, discontent with his new-found bisexuality is desperate to claim back his lady-loving reputation. Enter Sarah Sawyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you! You've come back for more have you? Naughty. And thank you. x

Desperate to consolidate his heterosexuality, John spent the following day building up the courage to ask out his lab partner, Sarah. She was pretty, with brown hair and a small frame, John realised he needed a distraction from Mr Holmes and thought a girlfriend would be the perfect diversion  
“Sarah!” John called out as she walked past his locker after third lesson, she turned smiling innocently, “Would you maybe like to… see a movie or something?”  
She giggled nervously and nodded, biting her lip, putting an extra spring in John’s step.   
Most of the chemistry lesson was spent on trying to get to know Sarah better, only looking at Mr Holmes when he was spoken to directly. Near the end of the lesson he crouched on the other side of John’s desk,   
“John. I was meant to offer you extra tuition yesterday, I must have forgotten to mention it.” He said it through gritted teeth and returned to his desk straight after he finished, not allowing John to reply.   
At the end of the class John waited,   
“I could actually do with a hand Sir.” I felt himself flush at the double meaning but if Holmes noticed he did not make it obvious.  
“Of course, are you free this evening?” John thought over his schedule, nothing planned, except Sarah, he was going to take her for dinner and a movie, but he figured that would be far easier to reschedule than an evening alone with Mr Holmes.  
“Yes.”  
At 6pm sharp John arrived at Mr Holmes’ office, ‘Mr Sherlock Holmes, HS’ engraved on the large timber door, “Sherlock.” John whispered and knocked on the door.   
“Come in.” Holmes had removed his coat and tie and left the top two buttons undone, trailing down his pale neck.   
“Good evening Sir.”  
Once they got down to work it was like any other teacher, as long as he didn’t look at the man of course, he was going to have to go at least to third base with Sarah to still call himself straight after the boner he’d had for the last half hour.   
“Do you maybe want to leave it at that for tonight John?” Holmes was trying to conceal a wicked smile after noticing the bulge in John’s pants,  
“Yeah…” John nodded,  
“Hot date?” Holmes let the grin take over, and John nearly whimpered,   
“Something like that.”  
John drives home as quickly as he can manage without breaking the law, the bumpy road doing nothing to help his aching cock. He quickly regarded his Mum and headed straight for the his room. He shut the door, pretending to get changed and leaped onto his bed quickly unbuckling his pants and kicking off his shoes, eventually his hand closed around his cock, shuddering from the eventual contact. He began to stroke, running a hand through his hair, trying to pretend he was thinking about Sarah and not his chemistry teacher. He rubbed his thumb against the slit and groaned in pleasure.   
He closed his eyes and thought of Holmes’ face, the cheekbones, the Cupid’s bow mouth, he licked his own lips with the thought. He couldn’t help but think that this was the most luxurious wank he’d had in ages, the constant teasing pressure, his heart beating faster thinking about Holmes’ face, arms, neck, then what he would look like with a few more buttons undone, and maybe his pants off.   
Remembering the dream from last night, John rolls over onto his knees, how he’d be if Holmes was making love to him. His cock was pressed between his body and the mattress, he rutted shamelessly against it, cursing quietly to himself. As he lifts himself onto his hands from his elbows John sees the small stain where he’s leaked onto his sheets, rocking his hips again, the head of his leaking cock pressing against the mattress with the perfect friction.   
He thinks of what would have happened next if he had not woken up, he picks up the pace, grinding and rubbing, moaning against the pillow. It all gets too much and he uses every muscle in his body to stop, waiting a minute or so before moving along the cotton again, in short teasing motions. He thinks of what hides under the fabric of Holmes’ expensive suits and he’s close again, he turns onto his back, thrusting into his hand and he’s coming, for now he doesn’t care that it’s drying on his thigh or his stomach, he’s just lying there with Mr Holmes still on his mind.  
Pulling him out of a post-wank doze, his phone is ringing and he answers it quickly,   
“Hullo?”   
“It’s Lestrade, there’s been another one, your age, she goes to your school.”  
“Fuck, who?” John scrambled to his feet, cleaning himself off with a tissue and holding the phone between ear and shoulder trying to put his jeans on,   
“Her name’s Sarah Sawyer. Apparently she was just standing outside the pizza restaurant near where you were mugged”   
“Oh god no. It’s my fault, I-“  
“You didn’t kill her, so it’s not your fault, but I need you to come to Scotland Yard after school tomorrow if that’s okay.”  
“O… of course.” The call ended. Sarah was dead, and so was John Watson’s heterosexuality.


	3. Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has a run in with a classmate who tries to read his diary aloud.

Diary,  
You’re not helping. Since I last wrote the mugger’s back in town and killed my girlfriend after I ditched her on our first date… I forgot to tell her I couldn’t make it, and that’s where he found her. There’s been two since me now, both of them dead, the detective tells me not to worry but there’s a serial killer out there who’s gonna figure out soon enough that he didn’t finish me off. On top of that I’m getting tutoring off Mr Holmes and I think I’m falling for him, unfortunately. Yesterday he saw I had a boner when I was sitting next to him. It’s hard not to worry, my girlfriend’s dead, my mugger’s back and my chemistry teacher is gorgeous.  
\- John

After finishing his second entry John had decided that he needed someone to talk to, who wasn’t made out of paper, more than just a ‘good listener’. He would see Mr Holmes tomorrow, see what that wonderful man could do.   
After little sleep John got ready for school almost an hour early, eager to see Holmes before school. He arrived five minutes after Mr Holmes arrived and knocked on the office door until the man on the other side opened it.   
“John? You’re at school very early, was there a…”  
“Sarah’s dead.” John could barely choke the words out and couldn’t manage to meet Mr Holmes’ eye.   
“How? What happened?” He sat John across from his desk, worried the boy might pass out,   
“They guy that tried to kill me, he’s back.”   
Holmes had clearly been well informed of the incident as his face paled further and his jaw clenched,   
“Why would you come to me?” John shook his head,   
“I’m not asking you to fight him, I just thought I could...” he trailed off,  
“You can.” Holmes offered him a reassuring smile, they looked at each other for a second before John returned his gaze to the floor, “You blame yourself. Why?”   
It was rather a talent of Holmes’ to deduce everything about a person from the state of their belt or a twitch of their nose, John could feel Holmes’ eyes picking him apart… and it hurt,   
“Because I forgot to tell her that I couldn’t make our date last night and she was waiting around for me and he…” John sniffed, he’d been trying so hard not to let any emotion come through and now he was about to cry in front of the man he was quickly falling for.   
Holmes brought John closer, putting an arm around him, pulling him into a hug. John could smell Holmes’ cologne and breathed it in, the tears he’d been holding too long wetting a patch of the taller man’s shirt.   
“I know I’m not supposed to hug you or anything John but these are extenuating circumstances, and I know you need someone right now.” John knew he meant to talk to, but he really did need Mr Holmes, more than pain killers, safety or heterosexuality. “You said you were cancelling your date with Sarah, may I ask why?” John really wanted to say no, but there was no point, Holmes would later deduce it and bring it up all over again,   
“Because I had tutoring.” Sherlock’s eyes widening, realising there may have been another reason John had visited him,   
“I asked you if you were free, I would have rescheduled if I knew.”  
“You’re… it’s more important.” John blushed a deep scarlet,   
“Right. Yes.”  
“I’d better get going anyway…” With that John shut the office door and stormed off to his car, he opened the door and threw the keys onto the passenger seat, he closed the door, put the window up and cried. When he could breathe properly again, he grabbed his books and keys and set off for his first class.   
As Mr Walker talked about the wonders of anatomy, John pulled out a blank page in his workbook and a pen and wrote,

Dear Diary,  
Every time I write something happens that makes things even worse. Last time I wrote Sarah had just died, I decided I was going to have to see Mr Holmes about it, no offence, I need to talk to something that talks back. I can feel the man getting closer, I’m less safe every day, I know it. And I saw Holmes this morning, went to his office and everything. I cried in front of him, actually fucking cried, all over his shirt, he hugged me and he smelled amazing, it was nearly good until I fucked it up like I always do- I told him he was more important than Sarah. Way to go John, real fucking subtle. Also, I might be gay.  
\- John

One of the popular guys in front of me snatched the piece of paper from my hands as I signed my name, chuckling and snorting at his friends, he cleared his throat,   
“Dear Diary…” the boy was smug and John already hated him, “Every time I…”  
“If you say one more word I will fucking kill you!” John stood opposite the boy, his fists clenched,  
“What, like Sarah?” John snapped, pushing the desk to the side and grabbing the boy by his shirt collar, holding his fist against his face.  
Next thing he knew, he was being pulled off the boy by Mr Walker,   
“Headmaster, both of you!”   
John was glad to see that the Headmaster’s cheery façade had faded quickly, it seemed much more human this way. He yelled at the boy for a bit, Tom his name was, something about respecting people’s property then he left and John was left waiting for his punishment. The headmaster then yelled at him a bit about violence never being the answer, and something about language but he was let go with a swift warning, at least someone understood the frankly distracting effect the death of your girlfriend has on a young man.   
At last the day was over and John was returning to the car he spent the morning crying in,   
“John!” that familiar baritone called, he turned and Mr Holmes was jogging towards him,  
“Sorry Sir, I didn’t see you.”  
“You’ve got a punishing pace John.” Holmes chuckled a little, catching his breath, John was tempted to make a quip about another punishing pace he set but he realised he’d made enough mistakes today, “I got this back for you, Mr Walker said you seemed pretty serious about it.”  
“Yeah.” John took it, remembering it’s content, “Did you read it?”  
“I wish I could say no.”  
“Shit.”  
“I know this isn’t terribly helpful, but I just want you to know, if you weren’t my student you’d already be keeping your toothbrush at my place.” John chuckled and turned an alarming shade of pink, Holmes laid a comforting hand on John’s shoulder and walked away. 

Dear Diary,  
I nearly lost you today. Mr Holmes brought you back, I got in trouble for fighting a kid to get you back. I don’t know how to feel, I want to smile that Holmes fancies me, but if I smile I feel guilty out of a lack of respect for my dead sort of girlfriend. Tonight I’ll definitely dream about either Mr Holmes or the mugger, maybe both.  
\- John


	4. Saviour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What everyone's been waiting for. Especially me.

“Come and get me why don’t you, you fucking cowardly prick!” John screamed into the night, he was on the corner of where the muggings had taken place, feeling brave, stupid and rather suicidal. “Come out here and let’s finish what we started!” With that, a bullet passed him, it was about a metre off, he knew it was on purpose, if this man wanted to kill John, he’d be dead,  
“I know you’re gonna kill me! Just let me see your face first!”  
A figure stepped out of the shadows,   
“It’s the last thing you’ll ever see.” He’d heard that voice before, but only ever had it read John’s diary,   
“Tom! What the hell are you doing?”  
“I really don’t like it when people take what’s mine John.”  
“Wh…”  
“When you’ve been waiting eight years to be announced football captain and dux of the college John, and some little shit from some fancy all boys school turns up and tears down everything you’ve fuckin’ worked for, you get a little angry. Sometimes you even think you could kill a man, it’s easy to say but believe me it’s much harder to do. When I saw you I was smiling, so fucking happy to be finally getting you out of the picture and then I couldn’t fucking do it. You’re right John, I was a coward, but I sure as hell aren’t anymore.”  
Then a gunshot, then darkness, then an angel. And then you realise Tom’s been shot, you’ve passed out and your chemistry teacher is standing over you.   
Mr Holmes stands flanked by two police officers, and behind them all, Detective Inspector Lestrade.  
“If it weren’t for Mr Holmes here you could’ve been a goner.” Lestrade whispered, John nodded, turning to Holmes and smiling politely,  
“Don’t beat yourself up over it Detective Inspector, as long as he’s off the streets I feel a lot safer.” The DI smiled and John and Mr Holmes were free to leave. “Told my parents I wouldn’t be home before school tomorrow.”  
“Do you want to stay with me?” Holmes asked casually, John’s eyes instantly went to the floor,   
“I-is that a good idea?”   
“I have a nice couch and a pizza in the fridge, it sounds like a good idea to me.” John nodded and followed Mr Holmes to his car,   
“I’ll drive you to come and get your car before school tomorrow, we don’t want word spreading that you spent the night with your teacher, do we.” John instantly said ‘no’, but if it wasn’t so… illegal, he’d be renting out advertising space.   
“So, Tom Murphy huh?” John nodded,   
“I can’t believe he wasted six months of my life…”  
“Well, he’s gone now.”  
“Yeah, at least I’ll actually finish school this year.” John mused, sighing,  
“When’s your birthday John?”  
“It was in the last week of the Christmas break, why?”   
“So you’re eighteen?”   
“Yes.”  
“Making us consenting adults.”  
“Yes.”  
“John Watson, I want to take you to bed.”  
John smiled and felt his ears go red, “Is that a yes?”  
“Yeah of course… I’ve just… I’ve never.”  
“I want to be your first, that way I can make sure it’s special for you.” At that Holmes leaned in, his dominant hand in John’s sandy hair, and kissed him softly at first, John moved his lips against Holmes’ own and settled a hand on Holmes’ chest. Holmes took John’s other hand and placed it on his inner thigh and John began to rub him in slow, deliberate circles while Holmes traced John’s lip and he almost moaned when their tongues flicked together.   
For a while Holmes pretended not to notice how tense John was, even shaking a little, “Relax John, I promise I’ll make this good for you.” John cleared his throat and nodded, trying to relax his body, reaching to untuck his teacher’s shirt. He ran his fingers over the pale line of skin above his belt. Holmes let him slowly undo each button of his shirt, particularly glad that he had an extra one unbuttoned, this was more than he could take. Once his shirt was unbuttoned he smoothed his hand over John’s clothed chest, feeling his heartbeat through the fabric. He made quick work of the buttons and finally their bodies touched, skin on skin.   
Holmes licked his lips, running his hands up and down John’s body, laying one burning kiss at the pulse point on his neck.   
“Bedroom.” Holmes whispered and John almost shivered. Holmes’ bedroom was entirely white, from the furniture to the sheets on his massive bed. Holmes removed the younger man’s shirt from his shoulders and brushed over John’s nipple with his thumb as they kissed,   
“Stop teasing me.” John whispered into the older man’s mouth and pushed him back on the bed, running his hands up and down his teacher’s pale chest. Holmes rocked his hips slightly into John’s and brought their bodies closer.   
Holmes grinned, rolling them over on his shoulder so that he was on top, he leaned back and chuckled at the sight of John blushing, his erection straining against his now too-tight jeans. John shifted his hands to unbuckle his pants and Holmes swatted his hands away, this was as far as John had gotten with his girlfriend before the incident almost a year ago now. Holmes rubbed his own crotch through his pants and John bit his lip with arousal.   
Holmes lowered his body onto John’s, kissing him tenderly. John bucked up a little as Holmes’ arousal rubbed against his own, even through two pairs of pants.   
“Please.” John didn’t know what he was asking for but Mr Holmes seemed to understand, reaching between them, unbuckling the younger man’s belt, pulling him upward until he was sitting up, resting on his palms, watching as his teacher undid his jeans and pulled them over his hips and John bucked as they ghosted over his arousal and John helpfully kicked the pants onto the ground, Holmes stood up for a second and removed his own trousers, lying on top of John again, pulling his boxers down enough to see the trail of sandy hair leading into his pants. He rubbed a careful hand over the obvious bulge and John hummed in approval. There was something strangely romantic about losing your virginity to your chemistry teacher, John thought.   
With that he pulled Holmes’ briefs down to his knees, kicking them to the ground and Holmes grinned, doing the same to the younger man, nuzzling into John’s neck,   
“You feel so good John.” He pulled John’s legs apart slightly and rubbed against him, holding him close and kissing his neck.   
“Oh Mr Holmes.” The older man chuckled,   
“I feel guilty enough about doing this with a student, at least call me Sherlock.”   
“Oh Sherlock.” John repeated, grinning cheekily. At that, Sherlock reached between them, taking John in hand and he moaned, “Fuck Sherlock, mmm.”  
Sherlock held him firmly around the base, John squirming and writhing against him,   
“Fuck, please!” and Sherlock gave him a long, slow stroke up his aching member. “I want to touch you.” John whispered, blushing again and Sherlock placed his cock along the length of John’s, wrapping his hand around both of them, placing John’s hand over his. As their breathing got faster, so did the strokes and soon they were moaning and grinding with such passion that it sent them hurtling over the edge.   
John looked positively dishevelled by the experience, his hair messy and his skin pink with arousal and exhaustion. Sherlock held their bodies together and rolled onto his side, he kissed John firmly and tuck a stray strand of sandy hair behind his ear,   
“How was that?” Sherlock whispered, chuckling breathlessly, John sighed and mumbled a little, too tired and overwhelmed to respond. He fell asleep in his teacher’s arms and nothing had ever been more right in the world.


	5. Danger and Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's insecure and there's a new girl in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting. Year 12's tougher than previously stated.

Waking up beside that man was fucking glorious, sure his forearm was fused to my stomach with dry sweat and cum but in the afterglow of losing one’s virginity, it almost seemed romantic. As Sherlock woke up beside him, he let out a little grunt which was adorable, nibbling into John’s shoulder.   
“You’re turning me into a morning person John.” Sherlock chuckled, nuzzling into his neck, “Fancy a shower before school?” John nodded and detached himself from Sherlock, rolling over to kiss the older man.   
“I need a shower.” John whispered and padded into the bathroom. He tried not to think about last night, he needed to think objectively, not whilst hard in the shower. As he washed himself, the thought of Sherlock touching him invaded the innocent activity and felt himself growing harder by the second. He lathered the soap and wrapped a hand around himself, he needed to get to school, he told himself it would be better to have a wank now than risk round two with Sherlock.   
As soon as John was fully hard, Sherlock opened the door and slipped into the shower beside him. John couldn’t help but watch as the water cascaded down his teacher’s back, only interrupted by him asking for the soap.   
“I know this sounds stupid, but I don’t think we should do it again… just yet.” Sherlock quirked an eyebrow but eventually nodded, respecting John’s far less fun decision.   
“Okay, but I know you’re going to finish that off, so can I at least watch?” John chuckled,   
“I suppose.” Sherlock stepped out of the shower and began towelling himself off, watching as John took himself in hand again. He stroked himself slowly, drawing it out more than he would have alone, Sherlock’s eyes were fixed on his crotch. And with that, just like in John’s dream that first night,   
“Let me suck you John.” John groaned and Sherlock sunk to his knees, taking John’s erection in his drying hands. As if on autopilot, Sherlock licked John’s length from base to tip and took John in his mouth. His tongue played with John’s cock, swirling around the head and stroking the prominent veins, he ran his hands up John’s thighs as he teased.  
John moaned the older man’s name as he hollowed his cheeks with the perfect suction, he groaned again and quickly pushed Sherlock away,   
“No, no I’m sorry, I just…” Sherlock backed out of the room, confused and respected that John needed more time.  
After five minutes or so, John opened the bathroom door,   
“We need to leave or we’ll be late.”  
“Can’t we talk about this first?”  
“No. I don’t know, not now.” Sherlock nodded and they drove to school in relative silence. 

Diary,  
It happened, somehow it happened. It’s been a while since I’ve written but I’ve got a very good excuse. I got a little crazy and provoked the mugger… turned out it was the guy that stole one of my entries, something about jealousy funnily enough. He was caught after Sherlock with the police found us. He offered me to stay over and I couldn’t resist, then… and I don’t know how, we ended up in bed together, I wouldn’t call it sex but some would. It was gorgeous anyway, and then this morning he sucked me off in the shower, you’d think I’m feeling great right… well I don’t. I’ve got questions spinning around in my head constantly, and I don’t know what to do. Has he done with this a student before? Is he using you? Was it a onetime thing? Does he love me like I love him? Will we get caught? I don’t know the answers, but it’s kind of hard to concentrate on getting your cock sucked when you think he’s probably just desperate. I’ll let you know if anything develops.  
\- John.

Thank fuck for Fridays, John thought. At least he would have a weekend to think about what had happened, and thank fuck he didn’t have chemistry on Friday, he didn’t think he could look at Sherlock right now without a stab in the heart.   
Walking to last period of the week, there was a firm pat on his shoulder,   
“John, can I please speak to you in my office?”  
“No, I have to get to class. Sorry.” With that, John walked away leaving Sherlock on the verge of tears, standing between science blocks, his legs threatening to fold.  
Another week passed and John pretended like nothing was wrong, like they didn’t need to talk and things got complicated… even more so.

Diary,  
There’s a new girl, she’s incredibly fit, I would’ve gone for it myself if she’d arrived before Sherlock. Anyway, like me she’s fallen for his charm but I think she’s bad news. I let him go, so I shouldn’t be jealous but I am. If she lays a finger on him, I don’t trust myself to stay sane. Irene Adler is dangerous. I want to warn him, I want to love him. But I can’t let him win.  
\- John.


End file.
